


Happy Hour

by LondonGypsy



Series: Happy Hour [1]
Category: Kane (Band)
Genre: AU'ish, M/M, basically porn but...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonGypsy/pseuds/LondonGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New Year's Eve, a bar and a fateful meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Hour

**Author's Note:**

> As always - huge Thanks to my beloved SuperWhoLockGypsy for the amazing Beta!! You rock, Darlin!! ♥

_**Los Angeles, 2002** _

 

Steve can't take his eyes off of the man. 

He knows he should, he has no right to stare at him like he does, but he can't. 

He can't just ignore the dark ponytail, bobbing in the rhythm of the music or the broad shoulders only hidden by a thin checkered shirt. 

He can't tear his gaze away from the muscled back or the small waist, the rough hands or the elegant fingers, drumming on the edge of the table. 

Steve just can't. 

And he hasn't even seen his face, only his profile. 

But that’s more than enough and he keeps staring, hoping for the other man to move just that little bit so he can see his face, his eyes, his mouth. 

It’s as if he wants to taunt him, staying put like he is, sitting on the stool, chatting with friends. Once in a while he laughs, and that’s when Steve's breath hitches; the guy throws his head back, bursts out laughing, loud and rough, making Steve shiver at the sight and sound. 

Steve sits on a couch, sipping on his beer, pretending to listen to Riley and Jason, who are arguing about something Steve has no idea about. 

It's New Year's Eve and he doesn't even know how he ended up here, at a party of a friend of a friend of Riley's. 

But he's here, in this bar that’s too loud and too full, staring at a guy he has never met, fantasizing over the great body he can only guess exists through the clothes the man is wearing. 

“Dude, are you even listening??” 

Riley slaps him on the shoulder, and Steve tears his eyes away and looks at his friend. 

“Huh?” 

Riley grunts and rolls his eyes at him before he turns back to Jason, continuing their discussion. 

Steve slumps back into the soft cushion of the sofa and his eyes drift back to the guy at the bar; he doesn’t even try to stop himself. 

The guy has turned a little and Steve catches a glimpse of a straight nose and full lips, curling into another smile. And Steve just wants to yell at him, wants him to look at him, wants to see him. 

Suddenly the guy jumps to his feet, emptying his beer and slamming the bottle on the counter. 

Somebody hands him a guitar and Steve sits up, his spine tingling with sudden anticipation. 

The guy laughs again and then he turns, the guitar in his hand, and Steve gasps. 

All he sees is a pair of bright blue eyes, beaming and gliding through the room, as if searching for something or someone. 

As his gaze runs over Steve he has to bite back a moan at the intensity in it and he subconsciously ducks his head. He has never seen such a piercing color and alone the thought of how they might look in bed makes him shift awkwardly as his dick gives a more than interested twitch. 

He glances back over again through half-closed lids; the guy has grabbed the guitar and settled back on the stool. Steve hears the familiar sounds as the man is tuning the instrument and he holds his breath. 

The sounds around them die down a bit and somebody yells to shut off the jukebox. 

The man only grins widely and strums quickly over the strings before he starts playing. 

That’s when Steve hears his voice for the first time and he's lost. 

Lost to a voice so hoarse yet still smooth, washing over him like a gentle summer rain, filling every cell in his body with an overwhelming want. 

His voice is nothing Steve had ever heard before. It went straight to his soul, stirring something there, something dark and rural, an instinct he can't suppress, and he moans. 

He faintly notices that Riley and Jason call his name but it doesn't register in his brain. He keeps staring over to the other guy who's singing softly, caught in his own little world. 

His eyes are unfocused, his fingers dance over the strings and even as he hits a wrong note and Steve flinches at the sound, it doesn't stop him. The hair has escaped the ponytail and curls around his high cheekbones, dark strands brushing over his skin with every move he makes. Steve's fingers itch, he wants to push that hair back, wants to wrap those curls around his hands, wants to pull his head back and claim his sinful mouth in a deep, slow kiss. 

He clenches his fists so hard the fingernails dig deep in his palms, but the pain is only a dull sensation. 

Steve feels his cock becoming hard and aching in his jeans; his throat is dry and his heart is pounding. 

He has only eyes for the man at the bar, everything else has faded, and then the guy looks up. His sapphire stare finds Steve's and the world stands still. 

Their eyes are locked, blue drilling into blue, and the voice of the guy drops even lower, that raspy tone gets rougher and Steve has time to notice that his lashes are fucking long for a guy. 

Nothing has meaning anymore, nothing is important, Steve's entire world consists only of the man and his beautiful eyes. 

The song ends but he keeps looking at Steve, not moving, barely blinking and as Steve finally manages a shy smile the grin breaking free on the man's face takes his breath away with its brightness. 

The guy doesn't break the eye contact as he hands the guitar back and stands. 

Steve doesn't dare move but his hands get sweaty as the guy makes his way over to him, still smiling widely. 

He stops in front of their table, obviously considering something before he rounds it and sits next to Steve on the couch. 

Steve swallows hard as he sees all the details so closely now: the tiny wrinkles around those eyes, the scruff on his chin, the small, and apparently still-healing, scar on his upper lip, and the slight blush high on his cheeks. 

“Hi,” the guy drawls in that velvet whiskey voice that drives Steve crazy with longing, “I'm Chris...well, Christian.” 

His smile fades a little, the sky color of his eyes darkens and his brows furrow a tiny bit. 

Steve stares but then he remembers how to behave properly.

“Uhh, hey, I'm Steve,” he croaks and holds out his hand. 

“Hi Steve, nice to meet you,” he says and takes Steve's hand in his own. 

The world explodes and Steve bites his lip as their skin meets, trying desperately to hold back the groan. 

“Holy... Fuck,” he mutters breathlessly, but the other man still hears him and the smirk he gives him has Steve tighten his grip on the other man's hand. 

They sit there, holding each other's hand, smiling softly at the other one; the fact that they’re in a room full of people not registering in their brains. 

A loud cough eventually rips Steve out of the haze he's in and he blinks as he focuses on Riley, who’s glaring at him. 

“Uhm, don’t you wanna introduce us to your friend here?” 

He sounds amused and annoyed at the same time and Steve can't help but grin; that's Riley. 

“Ohh, yeah, sure,” he says, hesitantly releasing the other man's hand. 

“Uhh, Riles, Jay, that's Christian... Christian, that’s Riley and Jason.” 

Christian glances over at them, nods quickly to acknowledge their presence before his gaze finds Steve again. 

“You're a musician, aren’t ya?” he asks, fully turning to Steve and turning his back to his friends. 

Steve catches the frown on Riley's face and hears the grumbled “What the fuck?” from Jason but Christian shifts a bit and his leg brushes against Steve's own, he forgets everything around him again. 

He grins and nods. 

“Yeah, I am. How'd you know?” 

Christian chuckles and the sound of it shoots a hot flash through Steve's stomach. 

“You flinched at the dissonance,” he explains and his knee presses a bit harder against Steve's. 

He laughs softly and shrugs.

“Can't help myself, ya know, it's in my blood...” his voice trails off as Christian shifts a bit more, laying his arm on the back of the couch. 

“I kinda figured,” Christian says, “whatcha play? No.. wait, lemme guess...” 

His gaze slides over Steve, slowly running over him and noticing every little detail, making Steve squirm under his clear stare.

“Guitar, hmm? Maybe some keys, but mostly guitar...” he muses, carefully taking one of Steve's hands, turning the palm up and sliding a finger over the calluses on the tips. 

Steve growls lowly as the gentle touch sets his nerves on fire, and his cock is so hard he doesn't dare move because he's on a very short fuse right now. 

Christian lets go of his hand and leans sideways against the back of the couch, tilting his head and watching Steve closely. 

“Anything that has strings,” Steve mumbles roughly, trying to control his increasing breath. 

“Yeah, you look like the string kinda guy... You know, we should play together sometime.” 

Christian's giving the words such a dirty undertone that Steve's lids flutter close for a second, images of naked skin flickering behind them. 

His eyes snap open as he hears Christian snicker, and then there's a soft brush against his neck. He blinks and realizes that it's Christian's hand, his fingers are playing with the tips of Steve's hair, falling on his shoulders. He carefully wraps some strands around his fingers, tugging softly on them and letting go again. 

Steve's head falls a bit forward, unconsciously inching closer to the other man, giving him better access. 

“And you? Anything else besides guitar?” 

Steve has a very hard time concentrating on talking, especially when rough fingertips slide over the sensitive skin of his neck, making him want to curl up on Christian's lap and stay there. 

He's close to purring and his vision blurs as he gets lost in the warm touch on his skin. 

“Nah, only guitar, I'm a simple guy, ya know. A guitar you can take wherever the wind blows you...” Christian lets the words linger in the air, his entire body is humming with a hidden intensity, and Steve is slowly but surely losing control over himself. 

“Uhh, guys, it's almost midnight.” 

Jason's voice drifts from somewhere into Steve's consciousness but he has only eyes for the man right in front of him. 

“'kay,” he mumbles, as his hand gets a life of its own and crawls over Christian's leg, still nudging hard against his own. The denim under his palm is rough and warm, he feels the muscles clenching under the fabric. 

“So...” Christian slurs, cocking an eyebrow at Steve, “any resolutions for the New Year?” 

Steve swallows as the other man leans closer; he can smell him now, musk, harsh and bitter, whiskey and something warm and oddly familiar. 

“Uhm... nah, not really. I don’t believe in resolutions,” Steve whispers, his voice sounding like it belongs to somebody else, “I mean, people always break them and why make them only today? If you wanna change anything in your life, just do it...” 

He shrugs, heat running through his veins and his head is spinning. 

“Right there with ya, man,” Christian agrees, his hand still playing with Steve's hair, “but what about traditions? You believe in those?” 

Steve frowns, trying to make sense of what he says. Around them, everybody jumps to their feet and faintly he hears them counting down. But his entire focus is on Christian, staring at him.

“Depends,” he croaks, licking his lips; his mouth is dry and he could use a drink. 

Christian leans closer, his free hand sliding over Steve's leg now, settling on his upper thigh, burning hot and heavy through the fabric of his jeans. 

“Ya know that tradition when you kiss somebody on New Year's....” 

His voice is hushed and if he hadn't been so close, Steve probably wouldn’t have heard him. But he does and his gaze drops to the full lips only inches away. 

Blood is rushing loudly in Steve's ears, his breath is coming in short pants as cheers and applause fill the air around them. 

“Happy New Year,” Christian whispers and Steve growls at the rough and sexy sound of it. 

Hot jolts of pure pleasure course through Steve's body as Christian's hand tightens in his hair before he pulls him into a fierce kiss. His mouth is warm and his lips open in an instant to let the other man in; their tongues meet in a frantic rush, curling almost desperately around each other. 

Steve wraps his arms around the other man, pulling him as close as possible, his fingers digging deep into his flesh, clinging to him. 

He's drowning in the sensation of hot skin, moist lips and heat, so much heat. Christian is moaning lowly into his mouth, his hand in his hair gripping tight, the other one sneaking around Steve's waist, pulling, urging him closer and Steve just wants to melt into the other man. 

Christian's tongue is invading his mouth, sliding against his own, nudging and withdrawing just to come back with more force, more want, driving Steve mad with need. Desire fills every cell of his body; his dick is so hard it hurts and when Christian's hand brushes over the throbbing bulge in his jeans, he moans low and long against his lips. 

Christian groans just as needy: small, almost pornographic sounds that leave Steve shaking in his arms. He breaks the kiss in order to gasp for air. He lets one hand drop to his groin and squeezes his cock; he's so close to coming in his jeans and he doesn’t want that.

Christian's forehead leans against his own, his erratic breath ghosts over Steve's wet lips, having him shudder. 

“If you don’t wanna create a huge fucking mess, you should stop groping yourself...” Christian pants but he makes no move to get away from Steve. His fingernails scratch over Steve's leg and he's constantly groaning now. 

“Shit, what am I supposed to do, man? I’m...” 

Christian closes his mouth with another hard kiss, licking deep into Steve's mouth and Steve almost loses it. 

“Go, now...” he gasps and it takes every little bit of self-control he has to push Christian away from him. 

His eyes are almost black but he nods and shifts away from him. It takes him a moment to get his composure but then he stands, pulling his shirt over the visible bulge that makes Steve wanna sink to his knees and suck him right there. 

“Go...” Steve repeats roughly before he has a quick look around. 

Nobody pays attention to them; everybody's kissing, smiling and cheering. 

Steve slumps into the couch, taking a few deep breaths; there's that little voice in his head that tells him to look for Riley and Jason but then his full attention gets drawn towards the door to the restrooms. 

Christian's standing there, his eyes huge and dark, even over the distance, and he's watching him intensely. Slowly he backs away, opening the door, and with one last look he turns and disappears. 

Steve scrambles to his feet, feeling every single nerve in his body buzzing and tingling as he staggers through the crowd, his eyes glued to that door. 

He doesn't really know how he made it but the second he kicks the door to the men's restroom shut behind him he's pressed against cold tiles. A hot tongue pushes violently past his willing lips and he moans ecstatic as Christian's taste explodes in his mouth. His hands fly up and tangle in those wild curls, pressing hard against him, feeling taut muscles under hot skin. 

“Holy shit,” he moans into the other man's mouth as Christian's rough hands push under his shirt, nails scraping over his back. He arches into the touch, biting his lip to mute the cries that want to escape. 

“'God, you're so fucking hot...want you so bad...” 

Steve shivers at the low growl against his neck. Nimble fingers open his jeans and shove them down, the touch around his cock is almost too much and Steve's head falls back at the sensation. 

He's burning with a fire, a need he never felt before and as Christian pushes him back against the tiles, he turns without thinking, offering his back to him. Christian presses against him, rubbing his still jeans-clad dick against his bare ass. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how fucking hard I am for you,” Christian groans into his ear. 

Not saying a word Steve searches for his hand and presses it on his own rock hard cock. 

“I can imagine,” he mewls, bucking into Christian's hand as he closes hard around him. 

“I wanna feel ya,” Christian whispers and kisses along Steve's shoulders, his hands restlessly roaming over his sides. 

“You have...?” 

“Yeah.” 

Steve hears clothes rustling, a distinctive pop and then there's the familiar, cool slick feeling of lube on his ass. 

“Spread your legs.” 

Steve does as told and has to cover his mouth with a hand as two fingers dive deep into him, scissoring him relentlessly. The burn is too much, it hurts, but Steve pushes back, every fiber in his body wanting to feel the other man. 

“Harder,” he hears himself panting, clenching around the fingers inside him. Far too soon they're gone again, leaving him empty, needy, and he whines, not caring how desperate he must sound. 

A hand closes around his hip, squeezing hard and he feels hot breath ghosting over his neck. 

“Shhh, I got ya... Steve, I can't... not slow...” 

Steve shakes his head; hell, he's so close he probably could come just by the other man's voice. 

“I know…s'okay…c'mon…please…” 

Steve feels the blunt head against his hole and relaxes instantly before the other man pushes his dick into him. There's no hesitation, no carefulness, just need, pure and raw; Steve feels it with every thrust the man makes into him. Only moments later he's buried balls deep in Steve's ass, filling him and Steve's knees buckle at the sensation. 

“God, fuck, yes,” he groans and his head falls against the cold wall, “so good... yeah, fuck me...” 

Christian doesn't move for a second before he pulls back and rams his cock back in, hitting that spot inside so hard, Steve cries out loud. 

“Shhhhh...” 

Steve bites his lip but as Christian hammers into him again and again, he can't control the noises he makes. He whimpers, palms pressed against the tiles to not get shoved against them, bracing himself against the power the other man is pounding into him, so deep and hard, Steve feels every impact straight to his inner core. 

He hears murmurs and whispers in his back but he can't grasp their meaning, he's too caught up in the feeling of being fucked like never before; the other man is taking what he wants, fierce and without remorse and Steve loves it. 

He feels his orgasm, feels the tingle in his toes and in his belly, feels his balls spasm. His dick is leaking, aching to be touched but he can't move, he needs both hands to withstand the force of the other man. 

“Christian...” he pleads, trying to get the other man to touch him. 

“No, you won’t touch yourself and neither will I. Imma make you come just like this. Only with my cock.... buried inside you....” 

He's whispering into Steve's ear, growls and grunts, accentuating every word with another bone-crushing thrust. Steve's brain liquefies; his body has taken over, he's acting on instinct and when he comes, he has to muffle his cries in his own arm. 

His orgasm hits him like a fucking train, stealing his breath and leaving him boneless, only held up by the strong hands around his hips. He's shaking, gasping for air, his legs are trembling heavily and all he wants is to break down, but he can't. 

The rhythm of the man behind him falters, his hands dig deeper into his flesh as he feels him coming, feels his release deep inside him, stream after stream filling him, hot and burning against his prostate. 

Steve's constantly moaning and he's not even aware of it until a big warm hand covers his mouth. 

“Shhh....Fuck, you're a loud one, aren’t ya?” 

Instead of an answer Steve sinks his teeth in the salty flesh and sucks the skin in his mouth; he feels the blood pulsating against his tongue and he doubles his effort. He only lets go as a sharp sting on his shoulder makes him wince in pain. 

“Mine,” Christian growls against his skin, licking over the bruise. His words are hoarse and Steve shudders heavily at the possessiveness in his tone. 

Every single fiber in his body is vibrating like a too-tight string and eventually his knees give out; he slowly sinks to the floor and he whines as the softening dick slips out of him. He collapses on the floor, panting heavily. He opens his eyes but his vision stays blurry; he can only see the shadow of the other man in the bright lights. 

He blinks a couple of times and finally his sight clears. Christian is leaning against the sinks, his hair is tousled, his spent dick glistens wet and his chest is heaving in the aftermaths of his orgasm. 

Steve lets his eyes wander over his naked legs, all muscles and a little bow-legged but then he pulls up his jeans, and Steve sighs disappointed. 

Christian hands him a couple of paper towels and turns to the sink to wash his hands. 

Steve cleans himself as well as he can before he scrambles back to his feet, joining the other man at the sink. 

Now that the heated passion is gone, the too-bright lights are pretty sobering and Steve blushes as their gaze meets in the mirror. He looks away, a little ashamed of his actions but the other man tsks and a warm hand tilts his head back until their eyes find each other again. 

“Don't...” 

Steve frowns but before he can say anything soft lips are on his, kissing him gently. He gets lost in the feeling, sweet now; gone is the passion, leaving something deeper, something heartbreakingly soft. 

“Can I see you again?” 

Steve reluctantly opens his eyes, now seeing the slight blush on Christian's face, and he smiles. 

“I would love to,” he says, pressing a quick kiss on the other man's cheek. 

They clean themselves up as much as possible, a slight tension between them, but it feels comfortable. 

“Hey, I'm staying at the _Shade_... You... I mean...” 

Steve bites back a grin at the stumbling of the other man; so different from the demanding guy that just took him - in a fucking restroom, no less. 

He dries his hands and throws his hair back; their eyes meet in the mirror again and Steve lets his gaze run over the other man's body. 

“Sounds like a plan,” he smirks and turns to face Christian who immediately steps closer, pinning Steve against the sink. 

They touch from chest to toe, feeling the warmth of each other and Steve growls lowly as Christian leans in to kiss him again, slow and deep, his lips sealed over his own, his tongue swiping against Steve's, making his knees weak and his hands tremble. 

“Let's go,” Christian murmurs against his mouth and steps back, his face flushed pink and Steve can see the pulse racing in the crook of his neck. 

Steve takes a few deep breaths, straightens his back and with a last look in the mirror he walks out of the room, feeling the other man following him close. 

“Meet you outside in 5?” Steve asks as they get back into the bar. “Gotta say goodbye to my friends.” 

“Make it 3,” Christian growls roughly and disappears towards his group of friends. 

Steve's neck prickles promisingly as he makes his way through the crowd to his table. 

Jason is sitting at the table, concentrating on his phone, and as he looks up and sees Steve, he snorts. 

“Well, Happy New Year, man,” he grumbles, an accusing tone in his words. 

Steve feels bad – for one second – but then there's a hot sting in the back of his neck and he smiles. 

“Happy New Year, Jay,” he says, grabbing his jacket lying over the back of a chair, “listen, I gotta go. Where's Riles?” 

“Getting us a beer,” Jason replies, looking up and frowning at Steve. 

“Dude, what the fuck? You look like a train rolled over you...” 

Steve suppresses a grin and slips into his jacket. 

“Well...” he says, trailing of and Jason only rolls his eyes. He waves a hand at him and shakes his head. 

“Och, just go, I don’t wanna hear that. Just be careful, 'kay?!” 

“Always, Jay. Give Riles a hug. I'll talk to you tomorrow.” 

Steve leans down and hugs Jason quickly before he's on his way back to the door. 

He stumbles outside into the night; the cool air has him shiver as it connects with his heated skin. 

He looks around; the sidewalk is crowded with people watching the fireworks. 

“There you are.” 

An arm slings around his waist from behind and without thinking Steve leans against the firm body behind him, covering the hand on his stomach with his own. 

“C'mon, it's not far,” Christian mumbles into his ear and lets go of him, grabbing his hand and pulling him along the sidewalk, away from all of the people. 

Steve's fingers tangle easily with Christian's and hand in hand they walk towards the hotel Steve knows is only a few minutes down the street. 

“You know,” Steve hesitates as the sign appears, “I usually don’t... I mean, I'm not...” 

Christian chuckles lowly and squeezes Steve's hand. 

“Me neither, but you... you're so...” he looks at Steve, his voice dropping an octave and Steve sees him swallow hard. He then shrugs and smiles softly, suddenly a shy edge to him. 

“Dunno... I saw you and …” 

Steve trembles a bit and it's not only the chilly night. 

Christian sees it and he growls lowly, pulling him closer against his body. 

“C'mon,” he murmurs into Steve's hair, “it's cold out here.” 

Steve turns his head and captures his lips in a slow kiss. 

“It is?” he murmurs, biting softly in the warm flesh, “I'd say it's pretty hot...” 

Christian grins and deepens the kiss before he takes a step back, taking Steve's hand again. 

“C'mon, I've got a nice, cozy bed up there.” 

Steve groans lowly and follows Christian into the lobby while fireworks paint the dark sky all the colors of the rainbow. 

 


End file.
